You have no idea how terrifying it is for me to post this here. I didn’t expect a poem to be my first creative writing post since I rarely write poetry, and my verse is not as refined as perhaps my prose is. Here it is, though, an Italian sonnet influenced by Early Modern English poetry. I know poetry never should be prefaced, but I feel like I must say that, while there is specific inspiration behind this, I wrote it more out of a desire to create than for a purpose. I expect speculation will still abound among some of you.
I appreciate any critical feedback you may have because it helps me become a better writer. Poetry is an area in which I would like to improve, and I take criticism quite well.
I think of you who shall not hear my call,
Whose subtle scent is breeze with sweetest taste
Upon my savored breath; whose calming voice
A guiding light is to my anxious mind,
Alone and dark before the soothing sound,
That if deprived of it I never was,
A bright and endless vernal meadow’s bliss
Would fall unmatched to my own happy thought.
If by illuminating dreams you find
Some longing shared behind our silent words,
I would those thoughts to me were ever known
By nature if not by your gentle tongue.
For thoughts alone do not the silence break,
And this, my call, shall never grace your ears.